SAMANTHA: Not medical. Temporal. Entropic cascade failure.

They were not by any means unaccustomed to parallel realities.

They had encountered so many over the years – worlds where one or more of their team was dead (or evil, on one shocking occasion), where the Stargate had only recently been discovered, or where the program was public knowledge and children dreamed of working for the SGC with the same ferocity and imagination that the children of their world dreamed of becoming astronauts. There were worlds overrun by the Goa’uld, and worlds ruled by the Tok’ra, and one under the benevolent command of the Asgard leader Thor. No, they were not at all unfamiliar with parallel realities and the contrasts inherent in them.

The very first parallel world – parallel Earth – parallel reality – they encountered had been one still ruled by the Goa’uld, though not singly by Ra as had been the case on their Earth before the Egyptian rebellion. North America was the property of Thoth, the ibis-headed false god of writing, one of the few (they surmised) who did not promote illiteracy in his slaves. Had it been some other – Ra, Apophis, Hathor – they would never have been called in to work at the SGC. Someone had to translate the highly unusual hieroglyphic inscriptions seen on the other side of the mirror, and Catherine Langford had recommended them. Intrigued by Dr. Langford’s promise of the mystery of a lifetime, and tiring of academia, they had accepted her offer, packed up their few belongings, and moved to Colorado. As they had left Egypt and New York and the memories held there so many years ago, they had then left California and the few students and colleagues who still took them seriously.

The translation took three weeks. When they were done and finally discovered what they were working on, nothing could have torn them away again.

Figuring out the seventh symbol on the cover stone eight months later, allowing the SGC to visit and explore alien worlds in their own reality, was merely incidental.

In all the parallel realities they had encountered, there was one thing they always looked for, always hoped to see. It was often the first question out of their mouths the moment they were alone with their doubles. But in all the hundreds of variations, their wish had not come true. They had all but given up hope that somewhere, that single moment of their lives had taken a different turn.

Which is why Drs. Melbourne and Claire Jackson did not recognize their son in PR 357-832. In every other reality they knew, including their own, Danny Jackson was dead.

 

 

 

//SG-1 to the brig. SG-1 to the brig.//

The announcement startled Daniel and his sudden movement sent several sheets of paper flying to the floor. He sighed and bent over to pick them up, his back complaining at how long he had been sitting and attempting to translate inscriptions in the photographs that SG-8 had brought back from PX2-984. When he was finished and sat upright again, Jack was in his doorway. "What have we done this time, Jack?" asked Daniel as he stood up, abandoning the usual salutations.

"Absolutely nothing," said Jack, holding the door open and then letting it slam shut, automatically locking, behind them.

"Are you sure? I was certain we were just called down to the brig."

The pair proceeded down the hallway, passing other SGC personnel as they went. "Yeah," said Jack in reply, "but if they were going to put us in it, we’d have the wonderful company of six or seven SFs to make sure we didn’t escape. This is a visit."

"A visit to the brig?" asked Daniel.

Jack shrugged. "No weirder than usual."

Daniel nodded; compared to dying and ascending and meeting new aliens every other week, being called to the brig was almost mundane.

They were met by Sam and Teal’c on the way, neither of whom knew any better than they did just why they were being called to the brig, and General Hammond was awaiting them at the security checkpoint. He gave Daniel an unfamiliar look before he spoke. "Two days ago, there was an incident at the storage facility at Area 51. Two individuals came through the quantum mirror; they were questioned and detained there until the situation could be relayed to the SGC. The commander of that base and I decided that we might be better suited to dealing with these...visitors. They arrived here an hour ago."

"Two days ago, sir?" said Sam in surprise. "And they’re still alive? Then their counterparts on this Earth are dead."

"The entropack cascade thingie?"

Sam gave Jack a look – the ‘Why do you insist on sounding stupid?’ look – and said, "Yes, entropic cascade failure. If they haven’t been even the least bit affected by it, then their doubles in this reality – if they ever existed – are dead." She turned to the general. "Sir, do we know who these people are?"

The general hesitated. "We think so." He turned and looked at the guard, who caught on quickly and let them into the observation room. Like the stereotypical police questioning room, they were separated from the detainees by a window of one-way glass. A dark-haired but graying man and a fair-complexioned woman, both perhaps a healthy fifty, sat at the table in the room. They wore simple uniforms similar to BDUs, the emblem on their shoulders not unlike that worn by personnel of the SGC. The woman sat close to her companion, leaning into him, taking comfort in the weight of his arm on her shoulder. His fingers brushed her arm reassuringly and after a moment he dropped a light kiss on her head. If they knew that they were being watched from the other side of the glass, they didn’t care.

"They look...familiar," said Sam, puzzled. "I can’t place it, where I’ve met them before..."

Daniel walked up to the glass and stared at the couple. He agreed with Sam, silently; they looked familiar –

And then the woman turned towards the glass. He knew that face.

"My god," he whispered.

Jack looked at him. "Danny?" he asked.

Daniel turned to the others. "They’re my parents."

 

 

 

"Jack!" said Mel as a group of people – most of whom he recognized – entered the room. "Glad to see you’re alive in this reality, and Sam and George, too, of course." The young man with glasses and the black man – a Jaffa? – he didn’t recognize, but he could feel Claire’s smile as he spoke, and he knew that he was speaking for both of them in greeting the doubles of their friends. He held out his hand across the table to shake.

The O’Neill of this reality was hesitant but took the hand. "Thanks," he said, and then added: "I think."

Claire saw the confusion in the man’s face. "You don’t know us in this reality, do you? I mean, it’s been more than forty-eight hours, so we know our doubles must be dead here, but we thought...maybe it was fairly recent?"

"I’m afraid not," said Sam’s double, as hesitant as Jack’s had been. "If you’re who we think you are, your doubles have been dead for a very long time."

"Twenty-seven years, two months and five days," said the young man quickly. Claire looked at him. A mathematician, perhaps? Maybe he worked with Sam.

"My god," said Mel faintly. "Then we had nothing to do with the Stargate, right? With deciphering the symbols? Or the mirror, in this reality?"

"No," said the young man slowly, "I did."

Claire looked at him with admiration. "Impressive. Very impressive. It hadn’t occurred to me that mathematics might be the answer." She turned to Mel. "Maybe we missed something," she added with a light laugh.

"Maybe," her husband replied, and then stuck out a hand to the young man. "Congratulations. Good job, son," said Mel.

The young man stared at him, a panicked look on his face. Then, suddenly, without much warning, he bolted from the room.

"What did I say?" asked Mel, looking at Jack.

Jack exchanged a look with his companions. "Teal’c, why don’t you go and check on him?" he said to the Jaffa, who nodded seriously and then left the room. Then Jack turned back to Mel and answered. "You’ll have to forgive Daniel," said Jack. "He’s had a bit of a shock today."

Claire nodded. "Obviously. I’m sorry if we’ve done something to offend him. With the three of you, we have some idea of what to expect, but since we’ve never met the Jaffa and the young man – Daniel, I think you said? – we haven’t the foggiest idea of what might set them off. And of course, with different realities, you never know exactly what might have happened differently..."

"It’s all right," said Sam. "We’ve encountered parallel realities. We’ve had a few shocks ourselves." Her voice turned serious. "I am wondering about something. Why did you think Daniel’s specialty is mathematics?"

Claire looked at her in surprise. "Isn’t it? I mean, he just threw out those numbers so quickly. I guess, I assumed he calculated it in his head on the spot..." She frowned. "If it’s not mathematics, then what is his specialty? I don’t mean to be callous, but he doesn’t strike me as being a soldier, and what we’ve seen of this reality so far indicates that your Stargate program is under the control of the Air Force, as it is in our reality."

Mel watched Jack and Hammond exchange another look. It was a look he’d seen a few times in his reality, and so he knew they were silently debating how much they were going to tell their visitors. After a moment Hammond gave a brief nod, and Mel knew that this meant they were going to be told the truth, but slowly.

"Yeah, it’s Air Force here," said Jack, "and no, Daniel’s not military." He laughed. "Though sometimes that’s hard to tell. He’s come a long ways since he was first brought here by Catherine Langford."

"Catherine brought him here?" said Mel in surprise. "She’s the one who recruited us in our reality."

Jack nodded. "Daniel’s an archaeologist – Carter, what’s the other degree in?"

"Linguistics, sir."

"Right. He’s our rocks and ancient cultures and languages guy. Him and Carter –" He gestured towards Sam. "– Are the smartest people I know."

Sam blushed.

"Anyway, Daniel’s specialty is ancient Egypt, which is why Dr. Langford called him in. He cracked the seventh symbol for the Stargate in two weeks."

"Two weeks!" said Claire. "My god. In our reality, the Stargate wasn’t our primary concern – the mirror was – so we didn’t even look for the missing symbol for months. It took us about three months to figure it out, once we actually set our minds to it. And even then it was just dumb luck, to be quite honest."

"Let me guess: horoscopes in the newspaper?" asked Jack.

"Yeah," replied Mel. "I take it he had the same leap of intuition? But it took a while for it to sink in, for us realize what we were looking at with it. We didn’t tell anyone about it until we had a better grasp on it. That took another month or so."

Jack nodded. "Daniel’s got this sense about these sorts of things. He figured it out and told everyone the next day. It was one of the most disorganized presentations I’ve ever seen, but it was all there."

"Amazing," said Claire. "We could use someone like that at our SGC. When – and if – we go back, we should look him up."

This time it was Jack and Sam that exchanged a look, but it was one that Claire and Mel were unaccustomed to deciphering. "What did I say?" asked Claire after a moment.

"Ma’am," said Sam hesitantly, "if you don’t know Daniel in your reality already – and it’s pretty clear that you don’t – then you’re not going to be able to find him. Either he doesn’t exist or he’s dead."

"What do you mean?" asked Mel. "Who is this kid?"

Jack answered. "Dr. Jackson," he said, "that kid is Dr. Jackson."

Claire frowned. "I’m confused."

"Look, you’re Claire Jackson and that’s Melbourne Jackson, right? You guys are archaeologists, Egyptologists, right?"

"Yes," replied Mel.

"Do you have any kids?"

Claire took in a deep breath. I will not panic and I will not think of Danny. I will not panic and I will not think of Danny –

"We did," said Mel. "Our son died a long time ago."

"His name was Daniel, wasn’t it."

Jack’s tone of voice had made it a statement of fact, not a question, but Mel answered him anyway, wondering what on earth this had to do with anything. "Yes. Danny."

"Dr. Jackson – Melbourne – Mel – whatever," said Jack. "That man who just ran out of here like he was being chased by a Goa’uld? That’s Daniel Jackson. Dr. Daniel Jackson. His parents – Claire and Melbourne Jackson – died when he was eight."

"My god," Claire whispered. "Twenty-seven years..."